


Reading Between the Blurry Lines

by keirajo



Series: The Emperor and The Prime (quartet) [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Dominance, Galvatron is still a jerk, M/M, Peace, Rough Sex, Sexual Violence, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Submission, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 09:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15579333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: Galvatron understands only one thing, what he wants--he gets.  Ceasefire accords have no personal meaning for him, though some of the Decepticons welcome the opportunities it might bring.  However, the accords come with a great temptation attached--one very willing Rodimus Prime.When Galvatron learns he has not fully conquered his Prime in every way............how far will he go to achieve that final dominance over his Prime?   How far will he go to conquer Rodimus Prime's very Spark?And more importantly.............will Rodimus Prime allow his Spark to be conquered?





	Reading Between the Blurry Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Galvatron is still a demanding jerk, but hey.............Rodimus gains some guts to actually fight back a little here! XD
> 
> Athenia comes from the Japanese "The Headmasters" series, in case anyone forgot. *chuckle*

**_ Reading Between the Blurry Lines _ **

 

 

            Spike Witwicky listened outside the door for a few moments before casually knocking on the doorframe of the open room.  He heard a non-committal grunt from the occupant, one particular Rodimus Prime today, and then entered the room.   The young Autobot Prime was seated at the work desk, reading various tablets as well as writing upon one.

            “You’re on _medical leave_ , what on Earth are you doing buried in paperwork?”  Spike groaned, hopping up the few steps to stand on a platform that brought him up to the height of the desk.

            “According to Ultra Magnus, medical leave _does not_ exclude doing paperwork,” Rodimus answered, trying to mimic his Second-in-Command’s stern voice.  “ ** _Medical leave, unless its reason is due to focal issues, optical strain or joint stress—is mainly to prevent excessive physical activity and promote healing._** Therefore reading and writing are still _viable working options_ when on medical leave.”

            Spike groaned, facepalming himself.  _Of course_ Ultra Magnus would say that.  He’d been on Rodimus Prime about paperwork since day one of his leadership.

            “All right, then………what _am_ I to prevent you from doing while you’re here on Athenia?”  The oldest human friend of the Autobots asked.

            “Just………..let me stay here, _that’s all_.   I just wanted to be somewhere where I _wouldn’t_ be judged for what happened and I came back from,” the young Prime mumbled, a hand absently rubbing his neck.  Galvatron’s passionate bites were fading along his neck cables, but were still _slightly_ visible.

            “ _Wait._   **_Hold on._**    Move your hand,” Spike said, seriously, as he folded his arms over his chest.   He knew exactly what _that_ gesture meant for humans…………and while he’d been learning more about intimacies of his Transformer friends, he hadn’t realized _this particular gesture_ could apply to them as well.   He certainly had never seen any of his Autobot friends with such marks………..

            As if suddenly embarrassed, which he wasn’t really _technically_ embarrassed about, but only really embarrassed to have his human friend have to make the demand…………his hand clutched lightly over his neck, covering it.  Apprehension flooded his systems as he shook his head “no”.

            “Rodimus…………is your neck covered in _bites_?”  Spike asked, his voice even and neutral.   He chose not to use slang, in case Rodimus protested he didn’t know what that meant.   But this younger Autobot had practically grown up with his son, so he knew that the young Prime had seen plenty of Earth television shows and movies to know what the term “ _hickey_ ” meant.

            “ _Primus_ ……….don’t _you_ judge me, too……..” Rodimus whispered, slowly bringing his hand away from his neck.

            Spike looked at the marks on Rodimus’ grey neck cabling.   They were quite nicely placed and were _clearly_ the marks of Galvatron’s fangs.   “I’m _not_ going to judge you, Rodimus…………I’ve known you since you came to Earth,” the human male said, chuckling softly.   “Hell, I’ve gotta explain _‘adult things’_ to Daniel soon enough, so I can’t be a dad embarrassed by what his son did.  Even if you’re not my _legitimate_ flesh-and-blood.”   Spike cupped his chin, thoughtfully.  “The only question now is……….did you two do it because of the pressure of isolation or because there was mutual interest?”

            “Does it matter?  I let a _Decepticon_ frag me……..” Rodimus mumbled, staring so hard at the datapads before him that he thought it might make the whole universe disappear.   “Just for that I deserve to have my badge removed and be kicked to the curb.”

            “It _does_ matter, Rodimus……..it honestly _does_ ,” Spike said, soothingly, his paternal instincts easily surfacing.   “Galvatron’s…………well, he’s _not_ Megatron and he’s _not_ predictable—he picks fights simply because he wants a fight and he’s crazier than an entire insane asylum.   I honestly don’t think I could really term him _‘evil’_ by those standards.”

            “He’s _chaos incarnate_ ,” Rodimus Prime murmured, glancing over at Spike.

            “That’s a good enough description.  In the old Dungeons and Dragons games I used to play back on Earth, _‘chaotic’_ was not good, nor was it evil.   In fact, characters could be termed _‘chaotic good’_ and _‘chaotic evil’_ , but chaotic itself is a generally unaligned definition,” the human male explained, simply.   “Galvatron _calls himself_ a Decepticon because Unicron left that brand upon him, so I don’t think he knows what else he can call himself.  There’s _none of Megatron_ left inside him whatsoever.”

            Rodimus Prime paused to let that sink in.   Spike’s odd definition seemed to be a far more appropriate label for Galvatron than anything else.   The grey-and-purple mech was all chaos and violence, but……….after interfacing, both with Rodimus’ systems and his body, he had seemed more patient and more understanding of the young Prime’s emotional situation.   At least, he had…………until he lost all patience right at the end there.   Maybe Galvatron thought that Rodimus could suddenly become the Rodimus Prime he’d always pretended to be—that he could change that easily and that quickly?

            “Spike……….you know that I’ve never belonged anywhere, right?   I was unwanted and a burden to the Autobots—always shoved off to the side, rather than be given something meaningful to do.   The _only_ good thing that happened in my life was protecting your family……….. _and Daniel_ ,” the young Prime said, softly, gazing down at his human friend.  “And……..in the end, I am _still_ unwanted—yet, I’m now _tolerated_ only because of the Matrix in my chest.  I’m deferred to and endured, but _only_ because of _that_ —I am an _object_ to the Autobots and _not a person_.”  Rodimus folded his arms on the table and buried his head in them.  “Galvatron actually _wanted_ me.   He wanted me when no one else ever had,” the flame-colored mech whispered, sobs and pain in his vocalizer.  “ _He wanted me_ ………..” he cried, softly.

            Spike reached over and patted his small human hand against Rodimus’ red helm.  He knew exactly what the young Prime was talking about—he’d even seen it himself.   He had watched Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime just say:  “ _Not now, Hot Rod_ …….” and then push him away—he’d seen it happen more than once, too.  He had also watched Hot Rod gazing at the two legendary Autobots with longing and admiration, from so very far away.   He understood what Rodimus Prime had meant when he said “ _tolerated, but unwanted_ ”.

            After the defeat of Unicron and things started to somewhat settle down on Cybertron, Spike had remembered trying to explain to his son, Daniel, about all of the new young Prime’s duties of leadership and why the two best friends suddenly had to part ways.   Daniel was saddened, but he understood as he watched Rodimus struggle to do what was right for the new position he held.   And, in the end, Spike sent his son off to a private school, hoping that Daniel would make some _human_ friends………….since his _Autobot_ friend now had to be elsewhere.   Spike, himself, somewhat missed seeing Rodimus often, too—he’d gotten used to thinking of Hot Rod as an adopted son of some sort, since he and Daniel had been inseparable.

            But now, he saw that although Rodimus Prime was young—he _was_ an adult and he was a young adult struggling with complex adult things.   However, the surprise of Galvatron showing an interest in Rodimus Prime— ** _this_** was a very interesting twist.   It was something that could definitely be used to possibly bring some sort of peace between Autobots and Decepticons one day, plus it would help Rodimus become stronger and more confident in himself.   All it took was someone to believe in you, for you to believe in yourself—a thing his own father had said to Spike many times.

            “Rodimus, if Galvatron truly has these……….. _feelings_ ………..for you—why don’t we use them and explore them.  I think if the two of you forge something together, it could be a stepping stone towards some kind of peace between the Autobots and the Decepticons one day,” Spike began, choosing his words very carefully.

            The young Prime raised his head from his arms, optics looking over at his human friend.

            “And how about _that_ , right?   You could be the Prime that forged some kind of peace!”  The Earth Ambassador chuckled, gazing at the flame-colored mech.  “It would _not_ be an easy peace………….it would definitely be up to Galvatron if it could even be labelled as _‘peace’_.  But if he had the reward of his very own Prime to keep him _attached_ to a ceasefire set of accords—we might be able to get him to consider that.”

            Rodimus Prime sat up straight, listening to every word that Spike was saying, with a bright hope spinning around with his Spark inside his chest.   “I still think he’d want his _‘glorious battles’_ with me, plus he likes to pound the heck out of everyone who invades _‘Chaar’s territory’_.  But he did tell me that he could care less about Cybertron and the Autobots themselves,” the young Prime answered, softly.

            “The two of you could easily do a gladiator kind of combat thing whenever you wanted.  And I really doubt people would gripe too much if others got messed with trying to invade Chaar’s _‘territory’_ area—I think they’d have earned Galvatron’s wrath if they’re stupid enough to do that,” Spike responded, folding his arms across his chest.   “But we know how much the Autobots like playing hero—that’s how they keep getting in Galvatron’s way.   It explains why the war keeps getting drawn out like this.”

            Then Spike suddenly sat down, crosslegged, on Rodimus’ desk.  He cupped his chin and stared absently at the surface of the desk before him.  As one of Earth’s primary ambassadors, he’d had to learn to do all this political maneuvering and negotiating.   It was not something that was easy at first, but with all the years he’d been interacting with the Autobots—and the Decepticons, by association—it had actually helped him prepare to be on the universal stage.  And how to act around other aliens out in the universe—what had become known to them as the _Galactic Alliance_.

            And with his years of having known the Cybertronian species, commonly called “Transformers” by most others in the universe (including by the creators of their species—the Quintessons!)—Spike knew how very similar to the human species they really were.  It was driven even further home when he had first heard about all the things that Optimus Prime had been trying to keep secret from the Earth humans when they arrived on the little blue planet—the things known as “ _Spark-bonding_ ” and “ _interface arrays_ ”.   Spike even remembered his first reaction to hearing those concepts had been slack-jawed staring, right before he broke out into laughter.

            He’d been told about those things _by Prowl_ , no less.  It had been right as the newer groups of Autobots had come to Earth, right around the time Daniel had been born.   As some of those new arrivals had been deemed “ _youngsters_ ”, when compared to the “ _veterans_ ” who’d been on Earth for all these years, they had come off as having fewer inhibitions than all the Autobots that Spike grew up with.   So, Prowl had thought that at least—out of _any_ of the humans on Earth— ** _Spike_** should be told about those things of the Transformers species, which Optimus had really hoped they could keep hidden.

            They still, rather humorously, _tried_ to keep it from all the rest of Earth humanity, though.  It was fine that **_Spike Witwicky_** knew things and could try to cover up for the younger Autobots (as if he could!) being the Earth liaison between the humans and the Autobots.

            “Rodimus………..if we can work this out, you could possibly be the ambassador to Chaar.  That would give you the time to spend with Galvatron………..and, honestly, you’re much more amiable to talk with.  So I think the other Decepticons might relax around you,” Spike finally said, considering a dozen scenarios about a ceasefire accord.   “I believe this may be the best chance we ever have at any kind of peace with the Decepticons—and whether it outlives you and Galvatron would have yet to be seen, but as of now it is a source of really great potential.”

            “All right………..let’s hammer this out some more.  I’ll send a glyph message to Galvatron tonight, to see if he’d like to meet and talk,” Rodimus Prime said, grinning at his human friend.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “Clearly you’ve brought a _babysitter_ with you, Prime,” Galvatron grunted, as he looked down at Spike, a massive frown on his faceplate.   He had been under the impression that whatever “talking” to be done would be between himself and his Prime.

            “Athenia is an embassy under Ambassador Witwicky’s direction,” Rodimus Prime explained, holding Galvatron’s gaze intently.  “As I am on medical leave here, I must defer to him for things.”

            “ _Medical leave_?  You are _injured_?” Galvatron snapped, a bit angry at the situation and feeling like he’s been tricked into doing something.   His attention was laser-focused on Rodimus Prime.

            “I’m just a bit sore, physically.  It’s………more or less _in here_ that I’m on leave for,” the young Prime answered, thumping his chest lightly with a fist.  “I know I have no right to ask this of you, but can you _try_ to be respectful of the embassy and staff while you’re here on Athenia?”

            “ _Tch_.  I will attempt to be………… _tolerable_ ,” Galvatron responded.  Then he waved at Cyclonus.  “Then I appreciate that you have allowed me to bring my Second-in-Command, if we are discussing matters more important than merely you and I.”

            “I’m…………sorry, I _wasn’t_ misleading you.  I just didn’t want the glyph message to ramble on excessively long,” Rodimus murmured, ducking his head with embarrassment.  “Yeah, I’m really glad you brought Cyclonus, too,” he added, smiling at the two Decepticons. 

            “ _Lord Galvatron_ ,” Spike said, giving a very polite and formal dip of his shoulders.  “As Rodimus and I have been speaking about the situation between the two of you, I began to think that perhaps we could find an accord that would be beneficial to both Autobots and Decepticons.”

            Galvatron appreciated Spike’s form of address to him, as the human led them to a very large room and motioned to a table that had been set for Cybertronians.  It was complete with Engex-filled glasses and energel treats on it.   Spike’s own seat was a chair on a raised platform, to match the height of the table and he had a glass of wine and some light snacks of his own.

            “You want to speak of matters I care nothing for,” Galvatron grumbled, but he rather enjoyed the layout of drinks and snacks in front of him on the table.

            “But Galvatron, we can _help_ each other…………….I’m not saying an eternal peace, but we’ll leave each other’s factions alone.  And we can help Chaar become a…….a……………” Rodimus trailed off, looking for a word to convey both “ _habitable_ ” and “ _self-sufficient_ ”.

            “A more suitable seat of power for you to build your empire from,” Spike added, diplomatically, smiling winningly at the Decepticon Leader.   “As long as your expansion does not cross into Galactic Alliance territory—you may conquer whomever you wish, when they pick their fights with you.   As you have been doing for a while now.”

            “You would advocate _support_ of my empire’s expansion?”  Galvatron asked, attention turning to Spike—there was both amusement and surprise tinging his vocalizer’s tones.

            “It may be fair to warn you, however………some planets and territories may suddenly choose to become part of the Galactic Alliance if they feel pressured by your expansion,” the human ambassador responded, firmly, and with a winning smile on his lips.  “However, I feel a _wise_ Emperor like yourself would understand not to expand aimlessly, but to build your empire with purpose and strength.”

            “ _Indeed_ ,” Galvatron purred.  This particular human had a silver tongue and knew _exactly_ how to use flattery as well as light admonishment to an advantage.

            “If we can like………… _trade you_ for Energon or show you how to get it yourself…………..would you leave Earth alone, too?”  Rodimus Prime asked, curiously.

            “I would…… _consider_ that possibility.  I really have no personal interest in that dirty, backwater planet,” the Decepticon Leader muttered.   Then the grey-and-purple mech looked directly at Rodimus.  “ _Prime_.  Besides these accords and other small assistances that come of it, as well as the potentials that you and I may indulge in—I would like to wrest a _particular_ favor from you.”

            Rodimus tried to soothe away the anxiety making his Spark spin faster in his chest and his fuel pump flexing so rapidly.   There was something that Galvatron wanted _more_ than Energon…………. _and him_?

            “What is it that you need?”  The young Prime asked, his vocalizer at a pitch slightly higher than normal.

            “While Soundwave has impressive intelligence gathering capabilities, he is limited to navigating a hostile network that lies beyond his means,” the grey-and-purple mech began, very seriously.  He glanced at Cyclonus, who merely nodded and handed Rodimus Prime a datapad.

            “You _can’t_ get through the Galactic Alliance,” Spike said, anticipating his thoughts.

            “ ** _Nngh_**.  Even so.  I have a great desire to punish every Quintesson out there that I can find.   However, I have issues with _finding_ them,” Galvatron snarled, leaning across the table.  “If you find any Quintessons or their bases— _give that information to me_!”

            Rodimus Prime couldn’t help but stare at his rival and possible lover……….he was well-aware that Galvatron’s definition of “ _punish_ ” was more-or-less that he was going to **_destroy them all_**.   The young Prime really didn’t like the Quintessons either, but he _couldn’t_ be knowledgeable of the potential of genocide!   He buried his head in his grey servos, trying not to be tempted by the offer.

            “You will not agree?”  Galvatron growled, angrily.

            “The Prime is distressed by the threats of death and destruction towards others, my lord,” Cyclonus responded, quietly.

            “Ah, yes……….I forgot he has such issues,” the Decepticon Leader said, chuckling softly as he glanced at his lieutenant.  “Do you really think I could ever find and destroy them all, my Prime?”

            “I—I hate them……. _but_ ………..I can’t know that you’re going to kill them.  _I can’t_!”  Rodimus Prime wailed softly.  He jumped up out of his seat and ran from the room, realizing all of his hopes were dashed by this stupid little vengeance factor.

            Spike sighed, his brown eyes following his “other son” out of the room.   “Lord Galvatron, I would like to discuss more of this accord with your Second-in-Command.  Perhaps Cyclonus will find ways to show you more of the benefits we might share,” the ambassador from Earth said, in a soft and soothing voice.  “But right now, I think that Rodimus just wants _Galvatron_ — ** _not_** the Leader and Lord of the Decepticons.”

            “ _Oh_?   You do not mind if I happen to……… _extend_ his medical leave?” Galvatron said with a slight chortle.

            Spike immediately stood from his chair, on the platform, and drew his blaster from his side-holster, aiming it up at the Decepticon Leader’s face.  “Do damage to my _other son_ and I will not hesitate to take it out of your hide,” the human male threatened in a calm and even voice.

            “ _Ah_ , I like your fire, human,” Galvatron chuckled, rising to his pedes.  “Do not worry, I am well-aware of how fragile my Prime is,” he responded, smiling down at Spike.

            “There’s a canyon about ten miles west of here,” Spike said, putting his blaster away and relaxing back into his chair again.  “Rodimus has gone there every day to just run his engines and burn off his anxieties and excess energy.  You’ll _probably_ find him there.”

            The Emperor of the Decepticons nodded and headed out of the room.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Galvatron stood at the top of the canyon and watched the camper-trailer alt mode of the young Prime crash haphazardly into rocks and organic debris.  The Decepticon Leader frowned……..he knew Rodimus was _not_ this clumsy in his vehicle mode.  It was very frustrating to watch his precious rival act like this—because he’d seen into the depths of Rodimus Prime’s program, he understood that the young Prime had come to hate himself, as he’d always been pushed away and left alone.  So, when he thought he made a mistake or caused a problem, he chose to withdraw from everyone and everything to try and deal with it himself.

            The thing was………..Galvatron was even more puzzled at why he was so concerned about the young Prime’s behavior.   It seemed he had somehow _become ensnared_ by the flame-colored mech’s finer charms—and those were not necessarily unwanted, either—but it _did_ confuse him that he felt this level of attachment to _anything at all_ , person or object.   Finally, the Decepticon Leader decided to just confront Rodimus Prime and he swooped down into the canyon to land directly in the young mech’s driving path.

            “ ** _Gah!_** ”  Rodimus gasped, swerving quickly out of the way and almost slamming into one of the canyon walls, until he felt Galvatron dig his claws into his trailer to stop him.

            “Come now, Prime— _stop pouting_ ,” Galvatron snapped.

            “I’m _not_ pouting!”  Rodimus Prime snapped back, transforming into his primary mode and glaring at the Leader of the Decepticons.

            “Then tell me, just what is it you _are_ doing?”  The purple-and-grey mech growled, folding his arms across his chest—being very careful to position the one with his nova cannon on the top.   “Tell me _now_ , Prime!”

            “I just…………I duuno.  When Spike started talking about the ceasefire accords and that I could be—y’know, like the ambassador to Chaar………..I guess I thought………..it could be something nice the Autobots could enjoy, something the Decepticons could benefit from………….and you and I……..” Rodimus explained, hesitantly, embarrassed by his selfish motivation regarding the situation.   “ _Slag it_ ………it really _was_ a selfish desire after all…….” he muttered, turning away from Galvatron, utterly embarrassed.

            “You wanted me so badly that you would deceive all around you, simply to get me?”  The Decepticon Leader responded, a soft chuckle in his vocalizer and a grin cracking his faceplate.   “Well now, that is certainly ambitious and devious of you, my Prime!”

            “ ** _Arrrgh!_**    But only _part_ of that is right!   I just don’t want the war to keep going and the people to die!”  The young Autobot Leader cried in frustration.   “But I know that peace— _a real peace treaty_ —isn’t so easily attainable.   If………if we can do this ceasefire accord thing, where we just don’t bother each other……..it could help a lot, for both sides.   As long as you don’t provoke the Galactic Alliance, which the Autobots are a part of, we can leave the Decepticons alone to do what you want……….”

            “Speak plainly, Prime!   Your words dance around too much!”  Galvatron growled, frustration evident in his voice and posture.

            “Okay, look……..we _don’t_ bother fighting each other anymore.  You can expand your empire and beat the crap out of people dumb enough to defy you—as long as they _don’t_ belong to the Galactic Alliance,” Rodimus began, explaining it as simply as he could think of to.  “Then, _if it works_ ……….we can talk about benefits we can exchange.  Like the Constructicons like to build things, they’re amazing at it—and we’re trying to rebuild on Cybertron.  So……… _maybe_ they can help us a little?  And for helping us, then we can give you something like a month’s supply of high-quality Energon in return.   And we think that maybe the energy conversion platform we built on Cybertron can work for Chaar, if you use it on one of the other planets closer to the sun in the system…….with a reliable Energon source, you could withdraw from Earth and use your soldiers elsewhere.”

            “I see.   And there would be _other benefits_ to these………..accords?”  Galvatron asked, tilting his head curiously at his lover and rival.   “There is also the matter of _you and I_ —the grand battles that we _still_ must fight.  If there is _no more fighting_ , then……..?”  He growled softly.

            “You and I can _always_ fight.  **_Whenever_**.  At your whim,” Rodimus Prime answered, easily, smiling at the mech he had fallen for.   “This way you don’t have to wait for a random encounter to happen—a battle in which I may not even be participating in.  Which would make your frustrations rise and you could hurt my fellow Autobots.   But, with the accords, you could call upon me for a fight and I shall _always_ answer you.”

            As the meaning of that sank in for Galvatron, a devious smile spread across his faceplate.  “ _Ah_.  Then if I should prefer to have you for a **_frag_** , rather than a fight…….?”  He asked, grinning devilishly.

            “You……….could ask me for that, too?”  Rodimus answered, his voice a bit querulous as he was very hopeful for that latter suggestion of Galvatron’s.

            “But you _won’t_ assist me with the Quintessons?  Even though you despise them as much as I do—you will not see them pay for their lives for what they have done to our species?”  The Leader of the Decepticons growled.

            “I……..I _won’t_ ……..” Rodimus Prime answered, gnawing on his lower lip with anxiety.

            “Well, the benefits seem to outweigh the drawbacks, but I will await _Cyclonus’_ conclusions.  He sees everything, through the veils that are difficult for me to see past,” Galvatron said, softly.   Then he reached out and brushed fingers along the young Prime’s jaw.   “I believe _we_ can take some time to frag while _they_ speak of complex words and deals.”

            “Out……… _out here_?”  Rodimus Prime gasped, his head whipping around to see if anybody was nearby (even though he knew that logically, there _wasn’t_ anyone for miles).   “ _Ummmm_ ……I’m all dirty from racing around the canyon and……..” he stammered, anxiously.

            “You are not dirty _inside_ your array, are you?”  Galvatron teased, a hand sliding over the groin-plating of his flame-colored rival.

            “ ** _N—no!_**    _Of course not_!”  Rodimus cried, a blush darkening his pale grey faceplate.

            “Then let me in, my Prime,” the Decepticon Leader purred, pushing the Autobot Leader roughly over to one of the walls of the canyon.   “Open your data-ports for me, as well…….I wish to be _all the way in_ —both your body and your systems.”

            Rodimus Prime’s fuel pump pulsed rapidly and his Spark slammed around its casing within his chest.   He turned around, presenting his back to Galvatron, and planted his servos on the rock face of the canyon wall.  The young Prime even teased a little by wriggling his aft, as he opened his hip data-ports and his array paneling.   He could feel lubricant dribbling down his legs and, surprisingly, he _wasn’t_ all that embarrassed at how aroused he really was right now.

            “It pleases me to see that you want me so eagerly, my Prime,” Galvatron murmured, pulling cords from his hip-side data-ports and plugged into his fiery rival’s data-ports.   The soft moan from the Autobot proved that his systems welcomed their lord and master.  “ _Ahhhhhh_ …….let me truly **_reward_** you,” he purred, leaning forwards and biting at the sunbright-yellow spoiler fins.   After a moment of body shifting, he thrust his spike up into Rodimus hard, as he sent a surge of emotional data through the system connections.

            It was _pure lust_ and _supreme dominance_.

            Rodimus Prime moaned deeply, embracing the wildfires of pain/pleasure that swept through him, surrendering to the powerful force that was his Emperor and lover.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “That actually _wasn’t_ so bad for a first meeting.  I honestly expected more rage and yelling from Galvatron,” Spike chuckled, as he ate dinner while Rodimus fueled with Energon.   “And it looks like you got a few more marks on your neck _and_ your spoiler this time,” he teased softly.

            “Well, he’s possessive………but he’s _not_ selfish.  He makes sure **_I_** enjoy it, too,” Rodimus chuckled, warmly, brushing his neck with fondness.

            “How far will you go with him?   Will you Spark-bond?”  Spike asked, curiously.

            “I………don’t think Spark-bonding means the same to him as it would for me,” the young Prime said with a sigh.  “I’m pretty sure he’s already Spark-bound to Cyclonus and Scourge.”

            “ _Hmmm_ ,” the human male murmured.  “So, it’s merely another method of dominance for him.”  Spike paused to think about some things as he chewed on more food.   He hadn’t seen many actual open relationships, Springer and Arcee were the only ones that came to mind.  Otherwise, Spike only had suspicions of relationships amongst the other Autobots.   “Of course, **_you_** would choose a difficult relationship,” he laughed.

            “It’s the story of my life.   So, what did Cyclonus think of your proposed ceasefire accords?”  Rodimus Prime asked, sipping at his can of high-grade.

            “He could see the benefits in them— _especially_ the trading for Energon and the potential of the energy conversion platform,” Spike answered.  “It seems that Chaar is just as destitute as ever when it comes to Energon.”   The Earth ambassador took a sip of his wine and leaned back in his chair.  “Cyclonus had an idea for an outpost on one of the closer planets to their sun, so that the energy conversion platform would work.”

            “Cyclonus is really weirdly smart,” Rodimus said, grinning at his human friend.  “I heard you tell Galvatron that next we’ll meet on Chaar, after my medical leave is up,” he added, anxiously, rubbing a finger on the table.

            “Have more confidence, Rodimus—Ultra Magnus cannot possibly deny the benefits of a ceasefire and _you_ are the only one who has a chance of tempting Galvatron into it,” Spike chuckled.  “He clearly likes you in some kind of way—he’s a _strange_ one.   And from what I do understand of Spark-bonding—regardless of what it means for either of you individually, it would be something that would _benefit you_ , because you would know Galvatron is supporting you even when you two are apart.”

            “That’s true,” Rodimus chuckled.

            “Oh, and by the way……..Daniel is on break next week, so he’ll be here for a few days while you’re still here.  You two should hang out and spend some time together, since you never know when it’ll happen again.   Although………..probably at least _try_ and get the marks of Galvatron’s fangs out of your spoiler.  The other hickeys can probably be covered up,” Spike teased, laughing warmly over at the young Autobot Leader.

            Rodimus Prime gave a soft little laugh as he brushed the marks on his neck again.

            Surprisingly, the next five days went pretty fast on the Athenia embassy base.   Carly eventually brought her son in on a shuttle and checked around with the other staff of the base while Daniel spent a little bit of time with his father.

            “Rodimus is _really_ here?”  Daniel said, excitedly.  The twelve-year-old still missed his Autobot “ _big brother_ ” a lot.  “Where _is_ he?  _Where_?”

            Spike laughed warmly, tousling his son’s hair.  It was almost hard to believe his son would be thirteen next week—seemed like just not that long ago he was a toddler vying for everyone’s attention in the Ark or Metroplex.   His attachment to Rodimus was understandable, because Hot Rod was the one who had really spent _the most time_ with Daniel out of any other Autobot—even sometimes more often than Daniel’s own parents.   There was a _special bond_ between the two of them.

            And, until more recently—this business with Galvatron—Daniel was the _only_ other person who expressed that he needed and wanted Hot Rod around.

            “He’s on _medical leave_ , so is a bit sore and aching.   Though he’s much better now than when he got here,” Spike said, walking Daniel to the Cybertronian-sized guest room he’d put Rodimus in when he came to Athenia.

            “He was _hurt_?   Oh man…………was it bad?   Was it _Galvatron_ who hurt him?”  Daniel asked, his brown eyes full of worry as he looked up at his dad.

            **_Ouch._**   _Right on the nose_ ………..although the injuries that Galvatron caused were probably not the kind of ones his that son was thinking of.

            Spike gave a nervous little chuckle and scratched at his cheek.  “Son, you’re going to be thirteen soon, so……” he began, a little anxiously.

            “ _OH GOD, DAD!_    ** _Please!!!_**   Mom already told me _that_ stuff, you know,” Daniel groaned, planting both his hands over his face.  “She said, you’d describe the _‘guy stuff’_ in more detail, though.   But what does this have to do with Rodimus, though?”  He asked, peeking around his fingers at his dad’s face.

            “Well, Cybertronians have………kind of _similar_ relationship things as us.  Some similar……… _almost biological_ ……….functions,” the father began, stopping them in the middle of the hallway.

            “Yeah, dad………it’s called an _‘interface array’_.  Mom told me _that_ stuff, too,” Daniel replied, folding his arms over his chest.  “Really…………what’s it got to do with _Rodimus_ and his injuries, though?”  He asked.

            “So……….Rodimus and Galvatron are **_a thing_** , and Galvatron _isn’t_ the gentlest of mechs……..” Spike answered, simply, groaning and facepalming himself.   It figures that his super-genius wife had already explained the difficult “ _adult_ ” things!

            Daniel’s jaw dropped.  “ _Wicked_!   So does that mean they’ll get married and there’ll be peace?”  The boy asked, excitedly.

            Except it seemed that Carly clearly hadn’t explained Spark-bonding and that there was no such thing as “ _marriage_ ” as Earth humans understood it.

            “Well, a peace treaty may be a long ways off, but we are looking at a set of ceasefire accords,” Spike explained.  “Next week I’ll be going to Chaar with Rodimus and Ultra Magnus to mediate something with Galvatron and Cyclonus.”

            “ _Awww_ , I hope it will go well, then.  My big bro deserves _somebody_ that likes him,” Daniel said, cheerfully, as they both started walking towards Rodimus’ guest room again.

            Spike was slightly taken aback by Daniel’s statement—it showed that even his son was aware of how lonely and isolated Rodimus had _always_ felt.   It seemed that only the Autobots themselves were unaware at how they treated their young Prime—both before and after he claimed the Matrix of Leadership.   Indeed, _that_ was the saddest part of this entire mess……….the ones Rodimus was supposed to trust the most, were the ones who were actually treating him the worst.

            The whole day, even talking about this difficult stuff, it was worth it to see Rodimus’ faceplate light up when he and Daniel walked into the room.   Then Spike left them along to spend some time with each other.  The father had wanted to press a warning about appropriate conversation topics, but it was clear that Daniel already knew a lot more than Spike thought he did.   He also knew that Rodimus would not even go near expounding a tale about his interfacing with Galvatron, the young Prime just was not the type to brag about that sort of thing.

            As soon as he was in the room, Daniel ran straight to Rodimus Prime and hugged his left leg, the boy’s height was now nearly up to the young Prime’s knee-joint.   “Man, it’s _great_ to see ya, big bro!”  The young human gushed.  “Tell me about Galvatron—does he _like_ you?  Do _you_ like him?”  He asked, excitedly, climbing up to the platform by the desk, so he could sit down at a height closer to Rodimus’.  The boy dangled his legs over the edge of the platform.

            “ _Ah-ha-ha_ ………it’s pretty complicated, Danny,” Rodimus said with a nervous chuckle.   “I am pretty sure I’m in love with him, but his emotional spectrum is a lot more limited.   I’m a rival and a berthmate—they both have a _‘more precious’_ meaning for him, but _‘love’_ doesn’t seem to be in his emotional spectrum.  He’s really, very confused by it when he feels it in my EM field.   But………regardless………….he’s very focused on me.”

            “I’m sure it’ll _somehow_ work out,” Daniel responded with a big grin.   “So, **_me_** ………….I’m hoping Katie will ask me to the Sadie Hawkins dance next week—she’s so cute and I really like her!   But………..I’m just the _weird little nerd_ in class………..” the boy sighed.

            “But isn’t it the thing nowdays that _‘nerds are hot’_ or something?”  Rodimus asked, dragging over the chair from the desk and sitting in it backwards, with his arms folded over the back, facing the platform where Daniel was sitting.

            “That’s what all those daytime soaps are doing nowadays!   I can’t believe my mom watches them—as brilliant a scientist as she is!”  Daniel groaned.

            “Guilty pleasures, I guess,” Rodimus Prime chuckled, warmly.  “How else is school going for you?  I really miss seeing you and your family on Cybertron a lot, but I think Athenia will be a good embassy for Earth as they join the Galactic Alliance.”

            “Yeah,” Daniel agreed, grinning at his Autobot big brother.  “I’m pretty near the _top_ of my class.   I may’ve gotten dad’s good looks, but I totally got mom’s brains!”  The boy said, proudly.   He laughed and kicked his feet lazily against the platform.

            The two of them just kept talking about weird and random topics for a while.   And then, when it began to get late, Rodimus promised they’d go out for a drive tomorrow.   They’d make the most of the next couple of days that Rodimus was still there.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Eventually it came to the day that Spike had scheduled them to go to Chaar, to negotiate the possible ceasefire accords.    Spike had a lot of confidence that with Rodimus Prime there, Galvatron would relent to them soon enough.   He and the young Prime had simply told their other companion, Ultra Magnus, that they were going to go mediate a ceasefire agreement—they hadn’t told the Autobot’s Second-in-Command “ _who_ ” or “ _where_ ” as of yet.  The two of them hadn’t wanted to see Ultra Magnus possibly lose his temper or forbid Rodimus from going—as the young Prime’s presence was the true key to getting this to work.

            So, they decided to wait and tell him after they were over halfway to Chaar on the diplomatic shuttlecraft.

            “ ** _Wait_**.  _What_ did you just say?”  Ultra Magnus said, disbelief in the tone of his vocalizer.   He just stared at the Autobot Leader and the Earth Ambassador with absolute shock in his entire posture.   “That’s…….just _not possible_.”

            “ _Umm_ , yeah……..it _kinda_ is.  Galvatron’s kind of willing—provided **_I_** am the ambassador to Chaar,” Rodimus began.  Then he cleared the nervous static from his vocalizer with some soft little coughs.   “And he’ll be allowed to call upon me to fight or frag at his whim, that’s _his bonus_ for signing the accords.”

            “ _Frag_.  You just said _‘frag’_ , didn’t you?  Just how long have you been **_interfacing_** with the _enemy_?”  Ultra Magnus said, a low and dangerous growl in his vocalizer.

            “ _Ultra Magnus!_   Rodimus Prime is a _grown mech_!”  Spike snapped, paternal instincts towards his “ _other son_ ” surfacing again.  “His chastity is actually _none of your business_ , to tell the truth,” the human male added, glaring at the red-white-blue mech in response.   “The fact of the matter is that Galvatron has an attraction to Rodimus and our young Prime has an attachment to him.  Because of this _mutual interest_ , we have our first great chance to take steps towards peace for your long, ongoing war.”

            “ _Hnngh._   Yes, I **_do_** see your point,” the Second-in-Command grumbled.   “I do not appreciate this turn of events, I do not appreciate it at all.   Why did you not tell me beforehand?”  He asked.

            “Why, indeed……..?”  Rodimus murmured, focusing on his piloting.

            “We _didn’t_ tell you, because of how you’re reacting _right now_ —we both knew you’d act like this,” Spike answered with a big sigh.  “You’d wind up forbidding Rodimus from going, which would make _him_ feel miserable for following his heart.  Well, _‘Spark’_ ……..you know what I mean,” the human chided.  “And right now, the very last thing we need is Rodimus sinking into more misery and possibly have Galvatron attacking Cybertron demanding the attentions of his Prime.”

            “ _Misery?_ ”  Ultra Magnus echoed.  “ ** _His Prime?!_** ”

            “Magnus…………how do you feel about Rodimus Prime as _your leader_?  Are you willing to follow his lead, or are you ready to push your own thoughts on commanding others upon him?”  Spike inquired, holding the red-white-blue mech’s gaze unwaveringly.   “You’re _still_ treating him like a child……….a _newmech_ , I believe your term is………and the Matrix of Leadership _chose him_.   I’m sorry, it didn’t choose you.   Don’t you think we could encourage Rodimus more?  Because, to be honest…………. _Galvatron’s_ given him a lot more encouragement of his potential than the Autobots have right now.”

            “Galvatron thinks that I’m the _only one_ worthy of fighting with him,” Rodimus chuckled, warmly.   “This really is our best chance at stepping towards peace.   And Galvatron……….he _needs things_ that he doesn’t fully understand—he merely lives with his desire of the day and pursues it relentlessly.  It’s quite admirable in its own way.”

            “But what if he decides to go back to war after the accords have been agreed upon?  What if……?”  Ultra Magnus trailed off.

            “ _Ummm_ , look Magnus………..Galvatron’s _not_ invested in war, he’s invested in _conquering_.   For some weird reason he’s also become attached to Chaar and believes his empire will expand from there.  We Autobots just keep getting in his way,” Rodimus Prime explained.

            “But Chaar is only dust and barren rock!”  The Second-in-Command groaned deeply.

            “Part of that is probably because the Constructicons _can’t_ build new things while they’re busy fighting or being medics,” Spike said, a soothing tone in his voice.  “Honestly, these accords will benefit the Decepticons as well as the Autobots…………and Rodimus and Galvatron together will be the _only way_ they’ll work.”

            “I understand it, but I honestly _don’t like it_ ,” Ultra Magnus grumbled.

            “All you have to do is follow _my_ lead.  Cyclonus is patient and amiable, you’ll see,” Spike chuckled, then noticed the puzzled tilt to the red-white-blue mech’s head.  “Honestly, Galvatron’s _not_ going to sit still to talk about this—it’ll be the three of us while our dear young Prime keeps Galvatron _well occupied_.   We can get the _important things_ done without collateral damage and yelling.”

            They landed the shuttlecraft at a specifically noted landing area on Chaar, where they were greeted by Cyclonus and Soundwave.

            “ _Prime_.  Lord Galvatron requests your presence _immediately_ ,” Cyclonus said, a soft huff of annoyance in his voice.   “Soundwave shall take you to him.  The remainder of us shall adjourn to discuss the possible accords.”

            Rodimus followed Soundwave.  He tried to be pleasant by asking the communications officer about his day, but succinct answers meant the Decepticon had _no desire_ to communicate in any way.  The young Prime really hoped that all of that would change…………Rodimus wanted to find out what the Decepticons needed, so their lives could be better.

            He _really and truly_ wanted that.

            At first, Rodimus Prime had only been grasping at his selfish desire for Galvatron’s attention…………but now his always present sense of compassion kicked in as he watched the Decepticons putter about on the barren world of Chaar.   He decided that he wanted to give the Decepticons a **_home_** ………not _just_ a homebase.

            “Soundwave,” Rodimus Prime murmured, softly.  “I promise—I’ll _try_ to make things better here.  Just wait patiently,” he whispered.

            Soundwave looked over at the young Prime, surprise evident on his faceplate—even with his facial shield.   There was no mistaking the true desire in Rodimus Prime’s voice.  The communications officer gave a barely perceptible nod before they finally came upon the waiting Emperor of the Decepticons.  And, then, Soundwave seemed to vanish instantly.

            “Well, my Prime………can I trust that you’ve finally found your fire?”  Galvatron asked, staring down at Rodimus Prime from the platform of stone that he was standing on.

            “I’ve _almost_ gotten it back, but I think some attention from my lord will help me get it back faster,” Rodimus responded, grinning up at the purple-and-grey mech.

            A devious smirk curved the Decepticon Leader’s lips as he raised his arm with his nova cannon.  The air around the garish orange cannon began to shimmer as it heated up.  The glow of a building plasma charge caused a daredevil’s grin to light up Rodimus Prime’s faceplate.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            They literally _crashed_ into the berth, breaking some of the gaudy carvings off of one of the footboard pillars.   The overhang drooped a little in another corner, when its pillar suffered a collision and bent a bit.   The fight that Galvatron and his Prime had a short time ago had revved their engines into overdrive, plus the quick bath to remove grime before moving to the berth only served to heat internal mechanisms to a melting point—it was a sheer wonder and miracle that _neither_ of them had succumbed to an overload or two before crashing into the berth.

            Engines rumbled and cooling fans roared, almost drowning out the heady moans and growls of building passion from the two mechs.   Rodimus wrestled his way atop of Galvatron’s bulky frame and went to shove him down, except the Decepticon Leader’s crowned helm smashed against the braced headboard of the fancy berth.

            “ _Ah-ha-ha_ ……….. ** _oooops_** ,” Rodimus Prime laughed as a growl rumbled deep in the purple-and-grey mech’s vocalizer.   Sparks lit up over Galvatron’s forehead and across the helm, making Rodimus pull back a little to anticipate just what kind of tantrum the other mech was about to have.

            “ _Priiiiiiiiime_ …….” Galvatron growled, but rather than the tone containing anger or warning—it seemed _almost playful_ as violet servos landed on red hips, pulling lightly at the seams of the hip-side covers of the data-ports.

            “My Emperor………….” the young Prime purred, opening his data-ports at the non-verbal request of the Decepticon Leader.   He gazed down at the purple-and-grey mech with warmth and hunger, his grey servos splayed to the sides of the Decepticon brand on his lover’s chest.  Rodimus Prime felt hot and dizzy and could feel the dampness building beneath his array panels, he rocked his groin paneling gently against Galvatron’s. 

            Galvatron smirked deviously, seeing his Prime’s arousal building to a fiery pitch………. _all good things come to those who wait_ —and the flame-colored mech would just have to wait a little bit longer for the actual interfacing to begin.   He preferred the chase and the build-up before conquering his prey………and a data-interface would be a pleasant aperitif before the main course.   The Decepticon Leader took the plugs from his own data-ports and snapped them into the waiting ones of his Prime, sparks flaring for several seconds upon connection.

            Rodimus Prime gave a happy little hum as his systems bowed and welcomed their lord and master, he stopped rocking his hips as he laid down on top of Galvatron.  Program ghosts chased and swept through the young Prime’s internal systems, making him feel lazy with pleasure.   He moaned softly, feeling his lover’s program taunt and tease circuits and system protocols within him………then he leaned forwards and slowly kissed the violent mech he loved so badly.   His EM field rippled with love and longing, pushing against Galvatron’s own close-held field.  As the Decepticon Leader felt that strange, _strange_ field emotion of Rodimus’ again, he pushed Rodimus up off of him a little, breaking their kiss.

            “What is that weird………… ** _thing_** …………..in your field?”  He asked, brushing a few fingers under Rodimus’ chin.   “I _always_ encounter it in your field and within the depths of your program—what is this thing you call _‘love’_?   I do not understand it.  It is _soft and fragile_ …………” Galvatron said, mildly pouting.

            “Yeah, it is,” Rodimus murmured, settling back down on top of Galvatron, his body splayed lazily atop his lover’s.  “It’s so very fragile,” he sighed, shuttering his optics so that he can simply enjoy the chase of program ghosts within him, teasing more sensation and pleasure from him than what talking about difficult things would do.

            “But why would you cling to such a fragile thing?  It must be something only you Autobots do,” Galvatron mumbled, his servos stroking the young Prime’s aft and sunbright spoiler fins.

            “ _Mmmm_ …..” Rodimus hummed, his hips rocking gently, causing a scrape of metal-upon-metal to cut into the sounds of revving engines and roaring fans.  He felt like overloading as Galvatron’s program ghost finally claimed and conquered his own, within the depths of his systems.   But the Decepticon Leader’s precise controls prevented any kind of overloading for either of them.  The flame-colored mech pushed himself up a little so he could look into his rival’s optics.  “Most of your Decepticons feel love, too, you know………..Unicron, he…… ** _unnggh_**!”  He grunted as claws dug into his spoiler and his aft.  “Come on, _just listen_ , would you?  I mean you asked me about this, okay?!”  The young Prime snapped softly.  Then he grabbed the sides of Galvatron’s helm and nuzzled him gently before lightly kissing him.

            After one last swipe of his glossa across Galvatron’s, Rodimus Prime pulled away and sat up, straddling the Decepticon Leader’s hips with his own.

            “Now, look…………..Unicron _rebuilt_ you, but took some of your processing capabilities—that’s why…….. ** _UNNGH_**!!”  Rodimus groaned as the claws dug deeper into his armour and derma.

            “Have a care with what you say……….. _Autobot_!”  Galvatron hissed, sending a burst of anger-pain through the data-port connections.

            Rodimus just about collapsed with a crash on top of the Decepticon Leader.   His systems had already been thoroughly conquered by his rival already—there was absolutely nothing he could do to resist either pain _or_ pleasure.   His systems were at Galvatron’s whims until the data-port connections were broken.   And they _both_ knew that.

            “Let’s………..let’s just frag,” Rodimus panted, trying to recover from the sharpness of the anger-pain still echoing through his systems.  “It’s really what we both want anyways—not to talk about difficult things.”

            “We will interface when **_I_** am ready to take you……..and not an astrosecond sooner—now, _finish_ what you were saying!”  Galvatron snarled, grabbing Rodimus Prime’s orange thighs on the outer-sides of them and digging his claws in harshly.

            “But you _won’t_ let me finish without frying my pain receptors and sensory inputs!”  The young Prime wailed, softly.

            Galvatron grumbled, seeing his point, but not particularly caring to hear it.  “I dislike speaking of my so-called creator just about as much as I despise the Quintessons,” he snapped, pulling his claws at the seams on the outer-thighs of his Prime and ripping them open, crushing and bending dermal metal on each leg.

            Circuits sparked angrily as wires and nerves were exposed, pain lanced straight through the young Prime and fed back in weaker ripples through the data-port connectors to Galvatron.  Galvatron ignored the weak waves of pain and watched his flame-colored rival fully collapse onto his chest, sobbing.

            “ _You’re not fair_.   You’ve been allowed to conquer my body and my systems—but you _won’t ever_ be allowed to conquer my Spark……… _Decepticon_!!”  Rodimus growled in challenge, summoning all his strength to sit up straight and stare into his rival’s optics.   He knew it was probably a weak goad into Spark-bonding with him, but Galvatron would never go for it straight out at this point!  If Galvatron would not let him speak about it, he would let the Decepticon Leader see what was missing and what Unicron had taken from those he’d rebuilt!

            It may have been a weak goad, but as soon as Galvatron was confronted with the fact that there was something he had _not_ conquered within his Prime, he was infuriated.   The Decepticon Leader roared with fury and rolled them over, pinning Rodimus Prime into the padded berth.  He was absolutely incoherent in his rage and his powerful EM field was actually full of…………… _longing_?  Desire, yes, of course…………but there was something here he didn’t have and he absolutely wanted— _that_ was the definition of longing.

            “You will _not ever_ claim my Spark—not without a fight!”  Rodimus Prime snapped, staring defiantly into his lover and rival’s optics.

            “ ** _Priiiiiiiiiiiiime_**!!!”  Galvatron snarled, yanking his adaptors out of the flame-colored mech’s data-ports.  He opened his spike panel instantly and the massive, ridged organ pressurized even before the panel had fully retracted.   The Decepticon Leader’s posture was nothing but absolute sexual demand and command.  “Open your damn array and we will see _who conquers_ at this time!”  He roared, furiously.

            Rodimus Prime chuckled and opened his interface array.  Galvatron was _desperate_ , he could see that right away.   The idea that he had not fully conquered his Prime was a thing he would not allow to stand, but if interfacing would bring him that much closer to a Spark-bonding—Rodimus would happily oblige.  Besides, the flood of lubricant that pooled on the padded berth was probably a good indicator of how much he _wanted_ to be fragged as well.

            The young Prime grunted as the thick black spike shoved up into him, roughly.  He reached down a grey servo and began stroking his pressurized spike lazily as he held Galvatron’s gaze unwaveringly.   They both stared at each other, unyielding in their stubborn determination to outlast each other, as Galvatron pounded fiercely into the wet valve and Rodimus jerked his hard spike with the same rhythm.   Revving engines, roaring fans…………and now wet squelching and scraping metal made the melody become an orchestra of sexual sounds, especially when grunts and growls gave way to moans and groans.   It was hard and _rough_ , furiously demanding interfacing—and Galvatron realized he was no closer to making his Prime overload when he saw the grin on his rival’s faceplate.

            “So, you’re fragging me _finally_ —and it really feels pretty great—but where’s the _conquering spirit_ of my Emperor?”  Rodimus said, half of his statement had become a gasp as several charges leapt from the Decepticon Leader’s spike and were caught by waiting nodes inside of his valve.  That felt _fantastic_!

            “I know what you’re doing, Prime!  _Stop trying to provoke me, damn you!_ ”  Galvatron roared over all the sounds of hard interfacing.   “I will see to it that you **_obey me_** , Prime…….!”  He snapped, pulling one servo from a red hip to raise his nova cannon and aim it right at his rival’s faceplate.

            Rodimus Prime just grinned and grabbed the violet servo of the arm the nova cannon was attached to, drawing it to his lips and kissing the knuckles before he began erotically licking and sucking on the fingers teasingly.  His EM field rippled out with joy and love.

            That damn strange emotion _thing_ again!  Galvatron couldn’t help but pause as the love in Rodimus’ field pushed up against his own wildly flaring field.  He _hated_ not being able to understand things!  He thought that he had understood his Prime and now he was infuriated that he _did not_ understand everything about the mech beneath him!  Plus, there was that reminder that he had _not yet conquered_ Rodimus Prime’s Spark—it whipped him into a frenzy of frustration, desire and longing for what he _didn’t_ have!

            Seeing Galvatron’s lapse in activity, Rodimus reached up to his lover’s shoulder and pulled the grey-and-purple mech down on top of him.   He wrapped his long legs around the Decepticon Leader and rolled them over, not disconnecting their bodies at all.  Then he pulled himself up to ride his lover gently, rocking his hips and listening to the wet sounds of their interfacing added to the orchestra of the other sounds of their frames in the room.   Ah, Galvatron really did have a _wonderful spike_ …………those hard ridges pulled at his wet walls with just the right amount of pleasure and ache.   Rodimus Prime purred as he rode lightly and ground hard on his lover and rival’s rigid member.

            “It looks like this time, **_I_** may conquer **_you_** ,” Rodimus chuckled, grinning down at Galvatron.

            “ ** _Rrrargh!_**   Stop distracting me with your nonsense, fool!”  The grey-and-purple mech snarled.  He went to grab for the flame-colored mech so pleasurably riding his hard spike, but his servos were caught before he could clutch at derma or armour.  Fingers twined inexorably with his and both grips were slammed into the thick headboard of the berth behind Galvatron’s crowned helm.   “ _Rodimus-goddamned-Prime………let go of me this instant—I am to conquer, not to be conquered!_ ”  He roared.

            “Oh, _but_ ………..” Rodimus chuckled, teasing rich in his vocalizer.  He rose-and-fell, rotating his hips with each lazy thrust and savoring the thick spike inside of him.  “Your _spike_ tells me differently.  It tells me it doesn’t mind being conquered by the charms of my valve…………transfluid and charge are leaking from your spike, my lord, _giving to me so very freely_ ,” the flame-colored mech purred, enjoying how the teasing of his rival was managing to arouse them both to greater heights of pleasure.  He really wanted to overload, but he couldn’t—not before he incensed Galvatron into _finally_ Spark-bonding with him.   “You know……… ** _this_** is what you get when you won’t let me finish speaking.   So, will you let me finish my words?  My fragging?  Or will you let me show you what Unicron took from you and you will _never_ get back?”  Rodimus said, still holding Galvatron’s servos against the headboard while pleasurably rocking his hips as he continued to ride his lover’s ridged organ.  “Choose which one you want me to finish and I will give it to you, _my lord_ ,” he said, holding his beloved rival’s gaze.

            Galvatron snarled dozens of very creative curses at Rodimus Prime.  He even demanded to be given all of the above—after all, was he not the young Prime’s lord and master?!   There was no way he would be satisfied with _only one_ of those choices!!!   However, what he wanted _most_ was what he had _not yet conquered_ ………..

            “You belong to **_me_** , Prime—give me your Spark and let me complete the trinity of my conquest!”  Galvatron hissed, staring into his rival’s blue glass-covered optics.

            “I’m so glad that you chose _that_ one………I hope you will come to understand what it _truly means_ ,” Rodimus murmured, pulling back to open his chestplate—however, he still did not stop riding Galvatron’s thick spike even as he did so.

            Galvatron had not seen the Matrix of Leadership in quite some time, as before, he was transfixed by its soft blue light as it sat there so perfectly inside of his Prime’s chest.  Slightly above it and slightly behind it was the spark-chamber.  The iris on the spark-casing was open wide and the Spark shone with such a bright blue that it was nearly white.

            “May I see your Spark………… _my Emperor_?”  Rodimus asked, gently, his hips still rocking with pleasure against Galavtron’s spike.  “ ** _Please_**?”  He begged.

            Galvatron had never realized just when Rodimus let go of his servos and his limbs were free.  He never even fully comprehended when his own servos opened his own chestplate.   His red glass-covered optics were utterly and completely focused on the brilliant blue-white light before him.  For the first time that he could ever remember of his time online, he willingly shuttered his optics to surrender to his sensual young Prime, as the mech leaned forwards.

            Not once, during the whole thing, did Rodimus ever stop his eagerly rocking hips—in fact, he knew that once they had bonded, the overload that consumed them both would be the greatest overload they ever experienced and he wanted all of Galvatron’s charge and fluids at **_that moment_**.  He leaned forwards and grabbed Galvatron’s servos again, twining their fingers as he dipped low from the shoulders.  His Spark came millimeters within range of the Decepticon Leader’s pulsing crimson Spark and he felt Sparklight touch one another, wispy tendrils twining, and shuttered his own optics.

 

**~**

 

_Everything around Galvatron felt like needles, sharp and prickly, digging hard at his derma and armour-plating.  It made him feel like he was **an intruder** in here, but he could not possibly be one—his Prime had **INVITED HIM IN**!!!_

_“It’s the Matrix,” the feel of a familiar voice said, from somewhere behind Galvatron.  Or perhaps in front of him.  It was very hard to tell.  “It’s **protecting** me.  So, you have to prove to it that you **really want me** and can take care of me, Galvatron.”  When those words he felt-sounded around him, it was like something brushed through him—giving a brief sense of ease from the needle-stabbing-pain._

_“You demanded that I **claim** you!   Stop hiding behind all this……….. **this slagging light**!!!”  Galvatron roared, furiously._

_“The Spark……….it’s **not** something you can just take or push away at a whim.   You can snuff it out and destroy it, but you can **never** claim it from someone who is unwilling,” the familiar feeling said once more.  “When you sublimated my program—you **saw** my ache, my loneliness.  But are you now prepared to **feel** it?  To experience my life the way I have?”_

_“What do you mean?!  I am **Galvatron**!!   I take whatever it is I desire!!!”  The Leader of the Decepticons roared.  “There is **no pain** you can confront me with that I cannot tear through and conquer!”_

_Something ghosted through him again, easing the needle-pain for another very brief moment.  Galvatron reached for that “ **not-pain** ” and found he could not grasp it.   There was nothing in this realm that could be defined or understood, it made his frustration build……..it was **nothing** like Spark-interfacing with Cyclonus or Scourge!   **Why** was his Prime doing this to him?   Did he truly **not** want the glorious Galvatron after all?_

_What an absurd notion **that** was!  **Of course** Rodimus Prime wanted him.  His body even **craved** it, the valve wet even before he touched it, the data-ports pulling him into the systems.  Plus there was that weird field emotion of his………that “ **love** ” thing………it pushed and pressed into Galvatron’s EM field whenever they were in touching range of one another.  Why was the young Prime suddenly holding everything back, **now**?!_

_“I demand that you……..” Galvatron growled furiously as he stomped forwards and stepped into some strange kind of bubble that he didn’t even see until he was inside of it._

_Flickers…….flashes………..events that the Decepticon Leader knew from having sublimated his Prime’s systems long since.  But they somehow felt **different** to him………..pulling him in and dragging him down, letting those damn needle-pricks dig harder and deeper into his derma._

**_Ah_ ** _. **Oh**.  He was seeing these now through the young Prime’s experiences—he was **feeling** the very emotions that the young mech had felt back then.   It wasn’t as if Galvatron was unaware of that pain and loneliness inside of his Prime, but now they had **tastes** on his glossa—and he found that he **did not like** those tastes very much._

_And then, he saw the events of not that long ago—when Galvatron had conquered his Prime.  For a few very brief moments he thought he might come to understand that weird emotion that Rodimus Prime used…………..but it was still far beyond his grasp, it seemed.   For the young Prime, that “ **love** ” seemed to lead to “ **hurt** ”.  Galvatron saw how **hurt** his Prime was at having to part from the Decepticon Leader—at having to go back to the Autobots who didn’t seem to want him—when all he wanted to do was to stay with the powerful mech who had claimed him in almost every way._

_The mech who had **actually wanted** poor, unwanted Hot Rod/Rodimus Prime._

_Galvatron found he **did not** like the taste of this “ **love-hurt** ” feeling either.  He grumbled as he stomped his way through the bubble and the needle-pain seemed to ebb almost immediately.  He stepped into a blank, dark emptiness.  Up above him was a brilliant, blue-white light.  Galvatron **knew** that light.  He **knew it** ………..and he knew that he **wanted it**._

_So he leapt up and thought to fly to it, to claim it as he had promised—but for some reason he was forced to remain where he was on the non-existent ground.  His frustration began to build even further._

_“You can’t take something like **that** ,” the feeling-voice said as it rejoined Galvatron, brushing against him.  “I wish that I could make you understand **why** , but even after feeling my emotions of love, you clearly still do not get it.”_

_“ **You belong to me!** You promised **that** to me!!  **Why** are you keeping it from me, **now**?!”  Galvatron snarled, trying to reach for the ghost-thing again._

_The nothingness seemed a bit melancholy……..a bit sad………as it feel-spoke its next words.  “Am I **just** a trophy for you to win?  To display to all until you are tired of me………..and then would you throw me back into the void of loneliness that you pulled me out of?”  The feel-voice asked, dancing just outside of Galvatron’s reach and senses.   “Do you understand what you’ll do to me **if** I give you **that** ………and then you toss me away?”_

_The ghost-feeling-voice roar-rushed through Galvatron.  He felt like he was being drilled full of holes, like pieces of his short existence had been removed._

_“I am done playing, do you hear me? **Enough games**!”  Galvatron roared, tossing everything away and raised his arm to aim the garish-orange nova cannon up at the blue-white brilliance shining above him.  “If I cannot **have** it……..then I will **destroy** it!”_

_There was a great feeling-sensation of withdrawal from the ghost-voice-thing.  “Unicron took your ability to understand what a **gift** being **given that** would be,” the feeling whispered, sadly and achingly.  “You **cannot** take **that** , it can **only** be given freely.”  The ghost-voice-feel swept through and around Galvatron, replacing all the holes it had made, and then some.  It caressed longingly for a long-but-short moment and hovered momentarily just within Galvatron’s reach._

_Galvatron **did not** reach for it this time._

_“What **am** I to you, Galvatron?   What **can I be** for you?  If I give you **that** ………will you give me **this**?”  The feeling-voice whispered as a ghostly touch— **burning, blazing hot** —landed on his chest and tried to push into it._

_The Decepticon Leader paused.  He wanted that brilliant blue-white star shining above him so very badly, he would destroy all of creation to get it.  It **belonged** to him, after all— **everything** belonged to him so long as he wanted it.   But would his Prime truly be satisfied to be given a part of the crimson light inside of him for that brilliant blue-white light?  Galvatron **never** gave anything lightly and this was no exception, but he **needed** that brilliant blue-white star—he needed it more than he could ever explain **why** he actually needed it._

_“Perhaps, my Prime, we can make an equitable trade?”  Galvatron said to the feeling-voice, grinning with pleasure and excitement._

_“Given freely, **perhaps** it can finally be taken,” the feeling-voice purred, sounding so very much like his precious Prime.  There was a pressure against him, burning hot as pieces of their own personal stars were exchanged and an explosion of ecstasy and satisfaction, as a whole new universe was born from the aftermath._

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “Oddly……….they look _really good_ together,” Spike murmured as he and a few others peered into the silent berthroom.  He saw how gaudy and extravagant it was—probably the only room on all of Chaar to look so ridiculously luxurious………of course, Galvatron probably saw to _his own_ comforts before anyone else.

            There had been a lot of growling, pounding, slamming, yelling and wailing before they opened the door in the wake of silence.  It had gone on for _quite a while_ , actually.  Ultra Magnus had been _utterly embarrassed_ to be standing outside of the locked berthroom door with Cyclonus, Soundwave and Spike—listening to……….. _whatever kind of interfacing_ was going on in the room.

            The day had grown long, the accords were agreed upon and needed only the signatures of the two leaders—so the group had gone off in search of them, figuring that whatever romps they’d been enjoying should have been long since completed.  Instead, the four of them stood outside of the locked berthroom door for nearly an hour listening to sounds that may well have come from an epic battle.

            “I gotta say, you Transformers certainly give a new definition to _‘wild sex’_!”  Spike chuckled.  “But Rodimus looks so happy recharging with Galvatron, right there.”   He smiled, pleased that his other son had finally found someone who could enjoy him and take care of him, despite who it actually turned out to be in the end.

            “Lord Galvatron looks quite satisfied as well,” Cyclonus said, a droll sigh in his deep voice.  “They shall be out for a while, I am afraid.  Is there any way I can see to some comforts or accommodations for you both?”  The Decepticon’s Second-in-Command sighed, gazing at both Spike and Ultra Magnus.  He had been the one to unlock the door once all had gone silent in the berthroom.

            “We greatly appreciate the hospitality, Cyclonus,” Spike answered, dipping his shoulders politely.

            “They’ve………. _Spark-bonded_ ………..” Ultra Magnus whispered, noticing the slightly ajar look to both of their chestplates.  “Oh, Rodimus, is this _really_ what you wanted?”  The Autobot’s Second-in-Command murmured, a bit of sadness making his vocalizer pop with static.

            Spike gave a little sigh and just reached over to pat Ultra Magnus’ leg in consolation.

 

 

 

 

 

**Next Story** :  “ _In the Wake of Necessity and Need_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd take my own unique view on Spark-bonding. Hope you enjoy it. :)
> 
> I appreciate and welcome all kudos and comments! :D


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